


Drink.

by bellatrix_black_Lestrange (bellatrix_black_lestrange)



Category: Crimson Peak (2015)
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 22:43:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5067451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellatrix_black_lestrange/pseuds/bellatrix_black_Lestrange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Early on, Lucille has a difficult time conceptualizing her and Thomas's unborn baby as a real living thing. And her way of reacting to it is just as strange as their entire relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drink.

In the few months after learning that she and her brother were expecting a child, Lucille had been toying with the idea of composing a lullabye just for it. She spent hours with the keys, but her hands mostly wanted to play the one she had already written for Thomas so many years ago. 

They had most likely conceived the child in Milan, when collecting an Enola Sciotti whose fortune they intended to drain. Though neither of them could be quite sure, as they had no intention of seeing a physician. It would be far too risky, and involve fabricating a story about how Lucille was tragically widowed before she even knew about the baby, and would require the purchase of mourning clothes to keep up the charade. In all, it wasn’t worth it. They would manage well enough. All the Sharpe siblings needed was each other.

Up in his workshop, Thomas could faintly hear her song. The piano soothed him, and served as a constant reminder that Lucille was here, and that she would not leave his side again for a long time. She being the earlier riser, it was how his sister greeted him many mornings. Thomas fancied the idea that if the baby could hear yet, the first sound it knew was Lucille at the piano. 

She rarely tired of playing, but trying to come up with a new tune had begun to bore her. Realizing she was going nowhere, and just playing the same progression around in circles, Lucille stopped. Her inspiration had run out for the time being, and she figured she would go visit Thomas in the attic.

Even though she was no longer forced by her parents to do the work of their decaying house, Lucille still assumed the role of caretaker of its inhabitants. She could use the excuse of bringing Thomas his tea to steal a moment alone with him right under his wife’s nose without her suspecting anything. Lady Sharpe never used the gilt-plated tea set for Thomas. Even though she washed it after every use, Lucille hated the idea of using the same cups to serve her brother and do away with her new sisters. Somehow she felt like their repeated use for poisons had imbued them with an evil quality, and she wouldn’t impart that on her darling. Instead, she always served Thomas from a very modest tea set of plain white porcelain, and took care that none of the wives ever saw that one.

After setting the pot, cup, and saucer on the tray, Lucille reached for the pot of rose and almond hand salve she kept by the stove, and worked a dab of it into her hands. Thomas loved her hands, and she always kept them beautiful and soft for him. She continued for the staircase with her skirts in one hand, and the tea tray expertly balanced on the other.

Halfway up to the attic, a foreign feeling at her core gave Lucille pause. It was a kind of shifting that she couldn’t control. Her free hand flew to her stomach, but she only felt layers of dress and corset. Still, she knew that it had started moving, and her heart started to flutter. Though she knew that it was actually the beginnings of a person, Lucille couldn’t conceptualize it that way until just now. Thomas would be pleased, even more so than she was.

She opened the door to the workshop attic without knocking, but closed and then locked it. Thomas looked up from his carving with a knife still in hand. Curls of wood were strewn about on the table, and a block that had been shaved down to look like the beginnings of a little bear sat in the middle. Beside him stood a little wooden bird, and a horse. They were much like the trinkets he made her, but simple and looked like they made for someone who had less careful hands. 

“They’re for the baby.” 

Lucille approached the table from behind, and held the bird in her hands. She ran a thumb over her brother’s handiwork and felt the delicate grooves of the feathers he had fastidiously carved into the bird’s surface. Lucille set the toy back down and undid his collar while kissing him on the cheek and neck. She nipped a little at the skin there, and moved her lips to his ear.

“I just felt it move for the first time. I don’t think you’ll be able to tell yet yourself, but I can.”

“Darling, don’t call our baby ‘it.’” Thomas said with an irritated tone, but without pulling away. He whittled somewhat slowly and lazily as his sister massaged his shoulders.

“Alright.” She breathed. “I’m sorry. He or she. They. Be lenient, I can’t help it. My condition has me feeling badly.” She said sardonically, poking fun at the way ladies’ social circled tiptoed around the subject of pregnancy. Good thing she wasn’t a part of one anyway.

Thomas chuckled. Even when Lucille spoke harshly, he couldn’t not be sweet on her.

Lucille sighed as she slid a hand into her brother’s lap. She pushed his thighs apart and grabbed at his crotch. With a single deft hand, she untied the laces of his trousers and slipped it inside. Over his drawers, she began to rub his cock. Thomas stifled a moan. He pushed the worktable away, and wood shavings rained down onto the floor and his feet. Lucille turned around to face the front of her brother’s chair. She ran her right hand down his member and felt it grow warmer as blood rushed to the area. It stood rock-hard at attention. Lucille teased at the end of her brother’s favorite appendage with her lips, until she took the whole of it in her mouth and began to suck.

Thomas was hot in her mouth. He challenged himself to keep carving a the wooden elephant while enjoying his sister. Little curls of wood fell into her elegant coiffure of raven hair. Lucille sucked hard, following the entire length of his shaft with her lips. The pressure at his groin built and built as she took him deep in her throat.   
Since her return to Allerdale Hall, Lady Sharpe pleasured her brother often in this fashion. When they fucked, he always spilled his seed inside Lucille just for pleasure and without the specific intent to impregnate her. But now that he already had, taking Thomas in her mouth took on a different meaning. The child occupied her body, and lived on her blood, but if she swallowed some of her brother, it could live off of him too. Even before, she would sometimes intentionally skip meals and consume of her brother instead.

Thomas moaned louder, without trying to quiet himself this time. Lucille felt him tense up, and instinctively jerk towards her. She stroked at his member with the tip of her tongue, and cradled his testicles in her hand. She worked at them both, until Thomas came to climax. He released into her mouth, sticky and thick in the back of her throat, and Lucille swallowed it dutifully, for both her and the child’s sake. Forgetting himself in the moment of intense pleasure, Thomas faltered with the knife and slid it across his finger instead of the wood. His thumb began to drip rubies, and he held his hand at length in order to not stain the velvet of Lucille’s dress.

She came to her feet, and saw the injury but was unalarmed. The cut was bleeding slowly but steadily, and Lucille kissed right over the opening. For a moment, the blood was like a red lip paint. Thomas thought it looked beautiful against her wintery skin. She slid his finger into her mouth, and the salty taste of cock was replaced with the metal of blood. Lucille drank him in just the same.


End file.
